


Secrets and Surprises

by InkstainedGwyn



Category: Persona 4
Genre: All The Tropes, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Then All The Fluff, They're adults, and married, oh boy, so sappy it's like maple syrup, where do I start, you'll get cavities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:17:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkstainedGwyn/pseuds/InkstainedGwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the signs point to Souji cheating, but a devastated Yosuke can't believe it's true. Maybe he's hiding something else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets and Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> I know _where_ this came from - I wanted to write a miscommunication fic with one of my favourite tropes, but I couldn’t figure out what the twist would be until I came up with this p ridiculous idea (but you have to admit, it fits and it’s true-to-form.) It probably could be a lot shorter and a lot less cavity-inducing, but I spent too much time thinking about it and not writing it and I just had to follow it to the end. It’s really, really sappy, and it makes me smile. At this point I don’t even have an excuse for my fluff addiction, I just hope it makes somebody else smile, too.
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](https://ohlookashinysquirrel.tumblr.com) if you want to poke at me.

Yosuke didn’t think much about it the first few times his husband worked late. Souji was a contract lawyer for Rise’s talent agency (she’d gone from being an idol to starting her own company) and the hours could be irregular, especially when they were pursuing a big deal.

As it dragged on, however, and Souji never gave him any idea of when it would be over, or even what exactly was going on, Yosuke started to feel paranoid about the whole thing. There were nights when the silver-haired lawyer didn’t get home until after midnight; even then, he was usually up and ready for work by the time Yosuke rolled out of bed, since the brunette had taken to fixing his lunches the night before. They hadn’t had a date or an evening together in weeks; although Souji still kissed him ‘good morning,’ and ‘goodnight’ (when they were both awake), it felt sometimes like he was living with a roommate, not a lover. 

_He’s never_ , ever, _gone this long on a project. Even when he has heavy workloads, he talks to me. Is something wrong? Is something going on that he can’t tell me about? Is he_ … tired _of me?_

Even then, he refused to consider the idea that Souji might be cheating. They’d been together for nearly fifteen years; in all that time, they’d never broken up, never had a fight that lasted longer than an afternoon, never kept secrets. Souji was the one person in the world in whom Yosuke had complete and utter faith.

After about three weeks of this, the brunette was doing laundry one afternoon - he’d just finished a movie soundtrack commission he’d been working on for about a month - when he felt something in the breast pocket of one of Souji’s dress shirts. As his fingers closed around it, he felt a sick heat rise in his stomach; pulling it out, he realised that his paranoia had been justified, and in the worst possible way. 

It was a woman’s clip-on earring. His first thought was that it could have been Rise’s, but when he looked at it, he realised that there was no way; the redhead had pierced ears and anyway, the earring just wasn’t her style at all. Besides, Rise was out of the country, and had been for nearly a month. Looking down at the shirt in his hands, Yosuke realised that something smelled different; putting it to his nose, he could smell perfume - floral and aromatic, like cedarwood or something else - and remembered that Souji had been making sure to shower every night before bed, even when he came in so late that it was nearly time to be up again. 

Still, even by itself, the earring wasn’t the final nail in the coffin; neither was the perfume. Souji _had_ coworkers, and some of them were female. Probably on his project team, too. No, the final nail came that evening. Yosuke was pacing the living room, trying to decide the best way to finally bring the topic up with his husband - who’d sent him yet another ‘working late’ text - when the phone rang. It was the landline, and the brunette answered with a puzzled look on his face.

“Hanamura speaking.”

“Ah, can I speak to Seta?” It sounded like one of Souji’s coworkers; Yosuke was pretty sure he’d run into the guy a few times at business dinners.

“He’s not home, he’s working late.” The brunette’s stomach was in knots.

“Er-” The voice on the other end sounded confused. “I… must have missed him. I thought he said he was leaving at the regular time; we’re in a lull between projects right now, so… if that’s the case, I’ll go look again. He didn’t answer his cell, so I thought he might be home, at dinner. I’m sorry for the interruption.”

Yosuke didn’t - _couldn’t_ \- answer; he heard the click on the other end as he dropped the phone into the cradle, sinking down to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. 

_Souji’s off with someone else._

He didn’t believe it - _couldn’t_ believe it - but what other excuse was there? He felt faint. He expected to feel his heart shatter, but that was unrealistic; if it had, he would have been numb, but the pain - the pain was too strong for that. Tears streamed down his face, even as he buried it against his knees.

_What did I do wrong?_

* * *

Slowly climbing the steps to their apartment, Souji found himself wishing - for the umpteenth time that month - that they’d picked a place with an elevator. The view was stunning, but right now… right now he was so worn out, and climbing even three flights of stairs was exhausting. He felt like he couldn’t remember a time when he _hadn’t_ been worn out coming home; still, it would be worth it in the end, and it was almost over.

His shirt collar shifted as he reached into his pocket for his keys; a whiff of tsubaki and blackwood drifted up, and he wrinkled his nose. _Ugh. It’s stronger than usual tonight; I just hope Yosuke’s asleep so I can stuff this into the clothes basket and grab a shower before he notices anything_. He wasn’t ready to tell the brunette, not yet, and he hadn’t been creeping around for nearly a month to have his secret blown like this. 

As soon as he swung the door open, he realised that something was wrong. The light from the hallway shone in behind him, and in front of him - sitting in the dark, arms wrapped around his knees - was Yosuke. He looked miserable - Souji had _never_ seen the expression that was on his husband’s face, not in the decades they’d known each other - and a cold fear gripped Souji’s heart. 

“Yosuke?” With panic in his voice he dropped his suitcase, kneeling in front of the brunette - he didn’t even bother to turn on the lights or shut the door. “Yosuke, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you sick?”

Yosuke looked up at him, and as Souji was no longer casting a shadow across his face, he could see that there were tear tracks - both fresh and old - down his husband's cheeks; the pain in the brunette’s eyes, behind his glasses, was almost too much for him, but as Souji reached out, Yosuke jerked away.

“Don’t.” His voice was harsh, scratchy, _raw_. “Just tell me one thing. Are you in love with her?”

“Am I-?” The words made no sense to Souji; be blinked, looking dazed. “Her? Who?”

“ _Don’t!_ ” Yosuke almost yelled the word, but he reined himself in, his voice dropping to an agonized whisper. “Don’t- _don’t_. I found the earring.” He held it out, and Souji took it with a robotic numbness, realisation and despair flooding his heart. “And your coworker called to ask you a question, since you’d apparently left work on time tonight.”

 _Oh_. Oh. _Oh my god… he thinks_ … Souji turned, shutting the door and reaching up to turn on the foyer lights with trembling hands. Once he was no longer worried about the neighbors, he took a second to rub his face. _I never even thought he’d doubt me. I suppose I should have expected it; put together, it looks so, so suspicious… oh_ Yosuke…

“I’m not cheating on you, Yosuke. I swear it. There’s no other man, no woman. Well, not in the way that you think.” 

By the look on his husband’s face, Souji could tell that Yosuke wanted desperately to believe him - but that he didn’t. That hurt, a little, but it wasn’t something he could blame the brunette for. 

“Your shirts smell like perfume, you’ve been working fake overtime for weeks, Souji, I can’t-” He hiccupped a sob. “I want to believe you, but I can’t-”

 _No surprise is worth this kind of pain_. Sighing, Souji stood up, offering a hand to the brunette. “Yosuke. I swear it, and I’ll prove it to you. Will you at least trust me enough to go with me? I swear on everything I’ve ever cared about that I’m not lying. I -” He closed his mouth, willing his voice to stop shaking. “ _Please_ , partner. For me. For us.”

Yosuke looked up at him for a long time; finally, he put his hand in Souji’s, letting the silver-haired man help him stand. “All right. I’ll… come with you. I _want_ to trust you, Souji, I just…”

“No, I know.” Souji wanted nothing more than to pull his husband into his arms and hold him, but right now he knew that would only make things worse. “I understand, and I’m not blaming you, Yosuke. I’d wanted to keep this a secret for a little bit longer, but it’s not worth this.”

At least allowing himself to grip the brunette’s hand tightly, Souji grabbed his keys from the floor where he’d dropped them next to his briefcase, and led the way downstairs, back to the parking garage.

* * *

The drive was silent, and although Yosuke had no idea where they were going, he expected them to head back into the heart of the city rather than towards the outskirts where they eventually found themselves. If Souji had been going this far out of his way every day, that explained at least half of why he came home so late, all the time. 

There were a few times that Souji turned his head to look at Yosuke; the brunette could tell that his husband wanted to say something, but had decided against it. Yosuke wasn’t sure if he appreciated this or not; Souji had always been good with words, and if he wasn’t speaking now, it meant he either didn’t know what to say, or couldn’t say it. The silver-haired man was still holding tightly onto one of his hands; the ache in Yosuke's heart told him that he shouldn’t even be letting _that_ pass, but right now, the warmth was the only thing keeping him sane. It _had_ to work out. If it didn’t… the brunette didn’t even dare to think about that. The idea of losing - of having _already lost_ \- Souji was anathema; he’d rather die. 

Eventually, in an old-fashioned neighbourhood of elegant old houses behind well-manicured hedges and traditional gates, Souji pulled over and parked beside a particularly fancy home. There was a sign above the gate; it was too dark, however, to read at a glance, and Souji pulled Yosuke through before he could make it out. 

The brunette expected them to go to the front door; they passed instead around the side of the building, and as they walked between lush sakura and tsubaki trees, Yosuke realised that the scent was comparable to what he’d smelled on Souji’s dress shirts. He could even smell the scent of wood, although he wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

When they got to the back of the house, he saw that there was another, smaller building - built in the same traditional style - behind the first; this was where they were headed, and there were lights on in a few of the windows. Walking up to the door, Souji tapped on the frame, then stepped back. He still hadn’t let go of Yosuke’s hand.

There were quiet footsteps, and eventually, the door slid open; a handsome woman stood before them, close to their age. Yosuke’s stomach tightened, but before he could pull away, Souji bowed.

“Sensei. I apologize for disturbing you so late.”

The woman smiled. “It’s quite all right, Seta-san. I was just finishing up today’s work. I take it this is Hanamura-san?”

Souji looked at Yosuke and nodded, turning back. “Yes. I’d appreciate it if you would allow me to show it to him.”

Yosuke blinked, looking back and forth between the two. _This… doesn’t sound like a conversation between lovers_. He felt a little of the tension easing in his stomach and shoulders, even though he was still confused; the woman seemed a little taken aback, as well. 

“Wasn’t it going to be a surprise?”

Souji nodded, looking at Yosuke again. “Yes, but right now the truth is far more important than any joy I might get out of a surprise.” He held out his hand with the earring in it. “I forgot to return this yesterday; you dropped it while we were working, and I picked it up so that it wouldn’t be swept away.”

Understanding dawned on the woman’s face as she took it, bowing slightly. “I see. Thank you, Seta-san, and my apologies.” Tucking it into a pocket, she gestured inside. “Please, come this way?”

Looking back down at Yosuke, Souji raised an eyebrow; Yosuke - still confused, but unable to stop the hope blossoming in his chest - nodded, and Souji led him inside, still holding his hand. The hallway was short, and ended at a wide set of double doors; the smell of wood was stronger now, and when Yosuke stepped inside, he gasped. 

The entire room was filled, from floor to ceiling, with piles of exotic wood, with machines that were clearly used for working with wood, and with wooden instruments in various stages of completion. There were rows of guitar and violin necks sitting on shelves between windows; a koto with no strings sat on a desk against one wall. There was a beautiful rosewood harp, inlaid with some darker woods, sitting in a packing container, half-wrapped in soft shipping cloths, in the centre of the room. The brunette turned to look at Souji, who was giving him a soft, sad smile. 

“Yosuke, please let me introduce you to Setsuko Kanagawa. Kanagawa-sensei is a master luthier; I think I told you that we partnered with her company recently because Rise wanted her to provide a selection of handmade traditional instruments, didn’t I?"

Yosuke blinked, looking stunned. “Y-yeah, I remember. And I told you that I was super jealous, because their guitars are amazing, and…”

He trailed off as Souji led him over to a workbench, on which sat a nearly-finished instrument; he could tell by the shape that it was a classical guitar, and it was a made of a beautiful, lustrous blackwood edged in silver abalone inlay. There was an incredibly complex inlay pattern on the front and neck, although it wasn’t even half-finished, and Yosuke couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be. Some parts were already started, with golden abalone on the body and silver along the neck, clamped down; Yosuke could smell the lacquer and glue. Just then, something caught his eye; leaning over, he saw kanji worked into the golden inlay already finished on the body.

 _It’s… holy shit, that’s my name_.

He looked up at Souji, eyes wide; before he could say anything, the luthier spoke up behind them.

“Seta-san negotiated our contract, and once we’d signed, he came to me and asked what it would take to commission a custom guitar. We got to talking about the details, and when I asked for information about you to influence my design, he asked if I would consider letting him help make it; I still remember the sound of his voice when he told me that he wanted to do as much as he could, as no words could do justice to the person for whom it was a gift. He wanted it to be perfect, and he wanted to have a chance to put his love into its creation.”

At his side, Souji turned bright red; he looked away from Yosuke, and Kanagawa-sensei chuckled. “I told him that if he could design a guitar that interested me, I would let him help. I was impressed by what he gave me-” she waved a hand at the half-finished instrument “-and what you see here is not much different from that. He’s been coming by as many nights as he can manage to assist me.” She looked at Yosuke with a knowing smile. “You should have seen the look on his face when he explained each detail, and why he chose it. If I wasn’t married to my work, I might almost have been jealous.”

Warmth, relief, and guilt all washed through Yosuke like a wave; his gaze - still locked on the guitar - wavered as his eyes filled with tears. “ _Partner_ …” His voice was shaking, but he couldn’t help it, and the grip on his hand loosened as Souji slid an arm around his waist. 

“Thank you, sensei. I apologize again for disturbing you so late. I think it’s time we went home.”

“Of course, Seta-san. It will take some time for the current pieces to set; I think that two days would be enough, so take tomorrow off, okay?”

“I- yes, sensei, of course. Thank you.” At Yosuke’s side, Souji bowed; Yosuke tried to duck his head, but he was so close to crying that all he could do was hold onto his husband. With an arm still around Yosuke’s waist, Souji led the way back through the yard; when they got to the car, he let go to unlock it, but when he did, Yosuke wrapped his arms around the silver-haired man’s waist, burying his face against his back as he started to sob.

“Oh my god, Souji, I’m so sorry, _so sorry_ , you did all this for me and I accused you of _cheating_ , I’m not even worth-”

“Yosuke.” Souji turned around, pulling Yosuke into a warm, tight embrace. “Don’t. You’re worth everything; I believed that when I started this, and I still believe it now. It’s my fault for not telling you more; I could have let you know that I was working on something, and that it was a surprise, but I didn’t because I didn’t want you to guess what it was. You had every right to question me, I’m just _so sorry_ that I made you worry.” He laid his cheek against the side of Yosuke’s head, and Yosuke took a deep breath, letting his husband’s cologne - along with the faint scent of tsubaki and rosewood, which was no longer terrifying - calm him, along with the sound of Souji’s heartbeat.

They stood like that for some time; eventually, Souji pulled back, leaning over to kiss Yosuke’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay now? Can we head home? It’s-” He looked at his watch. “I’m going to have to call in tomorrow, I think, but… I haven’t taken a day off in a few months. I think it’s about time we had a day to ourselves.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I'm better now.” Yosuke nodded, swallowing. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

On the way back, Souji held Yosuke’s hand again, but this time it was the brunette’s choice; he clung to it as if he wanted even more contact, but was making do because his husband was driving. 

While he drove, Souji told the brunette about everything that had been happening over the past few weeks. He left some of the details alone, hoping that at least the finished look would be a bit of a surprise, but he left nothing else out - partly to assuage his guilt for having kept the brunette in the dark for so long, and for making him hurt so badly, and partly to keep himself awake, since it was _so_ late, and he was _so_ tired. 

When they pulled up to the apartment, the horizon was already beginning to pale; they managed to make it upstairs and inside, but as they kicked off their shoes, Souji groaned.

“I can’t handle a shower tonight. I’m dead on my feet, I’m sorry…”

“Shush.” Yosuke had his hand, and was pulling him towards the bedroom. “Don’t even try to apologize, this is all my fault.”

Before he even sat down, Souji forced himself to send an email to his boss, explaining his need for a day off; he barely managed to get changed into sleep clothes before collapsing onto the bed. Vaguely, he felt the brunette climb into bed, felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, but he was fast asleep within seconds.

* * *

When Souji woke the next morning, Yosuke was snuggled up to his side; as Souji rubbed his cheek against the soft brunette hair and tightened his arms around his husband, Yosuke slowly raised his head, yawning. The room was bright; a glance at the clock told him that it was already late morning.

After some leisurely good-morning kisses and cuddles, the two of them got up; they’d both showered and Souji was in the middle of shaving when Yosuke, drying his hair next to him, put the blow dryer down and turned to look at him.

“Hey, partner. I… I was thinking about that- last night. The surprise. And…” He bit his lip. “I know this is selfish as hell, but… when it’s done, I want to be the first person to play it. I’ll tune it and everything, I just…” 

With a startled glance, Souji looked over at his husband. “I… don’t know what Kanagawa-san will say to that; she’s got a craftsman’s pride and her reputation to think of. Given that she had an amateur meddling this time, she might not want to let go of an instrument that she hasn’t tested, but… I’ll ask. I promise.”

“Thanks.” Yosuke exhaled softly. “I know it’s selfish, and I’m sorry, I just… this whole thing means so much to me already, and if you put so much into this, I- I want to be the first one to hear what it sounds like, to touch it.”

“Okay. I understand.” Souji caught the brunette’s gaze in the mirror, smiling softly; reaching down for a damp cloth, he wiped the shaving cream off his face and then turned to kiss Yosuke, sliding his arms around his husband’s waist. 

“For what it’s worth, I swear to you that I’ll never, ever even _want_ to cheat on you, Yosuke.” His voice was quiet, and Yosuke nodded, tightening his arms around Souji’s chest. 

“I know. And… I’ll never doubt you again. I swear it, even if there’s lipstick on your collar. I’ll ask you, and trust you.” 

“Okay.” Souji chuckled. “Although you and I both know it’ll probably be Rise’s fault, if there is.”

“Yeah.” Yosuke chuckled. “Yeah, it would be.”

* * *

Less than a month later saw the couple and their friends gathered at Rise’s uptown condo to celebrate Yosuke’s birthday. The brunette was nervous; Souji had been quiet about the guitar since the night they’d gone to the workshop, but he _had_ let his husband know that it was finished. He’d sounded proud; knowing how much of perfectionist Souji was, the brunette could only imagine how amazing it looked, and he knew it would sound just as good.

After an amazing meal, which the redhead had catered from Yosuke’s favourite Italian restaurant, they all gathered around for cake; before they cut it, however, Souji cleared his throat. 

“I, uh, before we do this, I have something I’d like to give you, Yosuke.”

Everyone turned to look; most of the group was curious, but none more than Yosuke, who’d been trying not to think about it (and failing miserably) since he’d first seen it. Looking nervous, Souji leaned over, pulling a black leather hard case out from behind a table; carrying it over, he handed it to Yosuke. 

“It’s strung, but nobody has tuned or played it yet, so… it’s all yours, partner. Happy birthday.” 

The realisation that he'd really be the first to play it made Yosuke's heart leap. He gave Souji a soft smile before carefully unfastening the case latches; when he lifted the lid and pulled the soft protective cloth off the instrument, everyone who was gathered around gasped. 

“Oh my _god_ , Souji, it’s _amazing!_ This is a Kanagawa, isn’t it?” Rise looked excited; Yosuke barely heard the answer, however, as he was mesmerised by just how _beautiful_ the instrument was. 

The blackwood had been polished so that every line and whorl in the grain shone, but it was eclipsed by the amazing inlay work. Golden abalone ringed the sound hole, a shimmering sun; the neck had all of the phases of the moon, in order, in silver abalone. Delicate golden lines and scrollwork encircled and wound through the moons; as they approached the body of the guitar, they faded to silver, surrounding and embracing the sun. As he’d seen before, his name was worked into the pattern below the sound hole; the entire thing was a work of art, and Yosuke found his hands trembling as he picked it up. 

“Partner, it’s… _wow_. I... _thank you_.” There were no words to express just how amazed, how _grateful_ he was, but he hoped his tone of voice would suffice. He looked up; Souji was watching him with a smile of relief, and suddenly, Yosuke wanted nothing more than to hear the instrument.

As Souji had promised, it was strung, but not tuned; it took some time, but Yosuke had been playing for so long that he could tune a guitar by ear. The tone amazed him; even the flat notes were warm and sweet, and although nobody - _nobody_ \- would have ever caught him saying the words out loud, he couldn’t help thinking,

 _This is what Souji’s love sounds like_.

Then, realising just how ridiculously sappy he’d just been, he turned red; Souji looked at him, curiously, but there was no way - _no. way_. - that Yosuke would ever tell him what he’d just thought.

Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t _show_ him.

Once the strings were tuned, he took a deep breath; he’d been planning this for a week or two, but this was still a song he hadn’t played in some time, so he started slowly. Standing up, he began to play; their friends murmured as the room was filled with beautiful music, but Yosuke only had eyes for Souji.

After a moment, Souji’s expression changed from one of happiness to one of surprise, and then to one of overflowing love; Yosuke knew he’d recognized the song that the brunette had first played for him on a Valentine’s Day so long ago. It still had no words, but Yosuke let the melody speak for him. As he played, he walked towards his husband; as the song ended and the last notes slowly faded, he smiled at Souji before reaching out. Sliding a hand into his silver hair, Yosuke pulled Souji into a slow, sweet kiss; Souji put a hand on the brunette's back, leaning in, though he was careful to keep his distance from the guitar. 

Their friends, of course, started cheering and clapping (Yosuke was pretty sure he heard Chie fake-gagging, but he wasn’t going to turn around and check). As they did, Souji smiled against the brunette’s lips. 

“Happy birthday, Yousk. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Souj. I always will.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **tsubaki** \- _camellia japonica_ , a flower with a very sweet scent


End file.
